The Hillbilly Name Bond
by madame.alexandra
Summary: On the beach at Camp Pendleton, Jenny runs into one of Gibbs' old girlfriends - and some insight ensues. ACD jibbs.


_a/n: i wrote this other day with ZERO knowledge that ex-wives were going to be a huge fiasco this week (still bitter, still bitter, NCIS) but here you go - at least nobody is dead in this._

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><p><span><em>Camp Pendleton, California<em>  
><span><em>August 2014<em>

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><p>It was a blistering hot, sun-soaked, clear sky August weekend, the kind of weather that remained one of Jennifer Gibbs' absolute favorite things about her husband's Camp Pendleton Marine posting.<p>

Days like this were a dime a dozen on the Southern California coast, she never got tired of them – and weekends during which the little group of Marines and their wives – or girlfriends – she'd come to be familiar with were all off duty were the most outstanding part of the summer – and it was her first summer here, so she relished those to come.

She had just emerged from the water, wringing her hair out and blinking rapidly – her eyes stung with salt, and she was still breathless from the wave that had pummeled her after a failed game of chicken – behind her, someone was laughing, but at least Gibbs –

He jogged up to her, and rested a hand on her back.

"You forget how to swim, Jen?" he asked seriously, though she sensed he was trying hard not to laugh – and though she didn't blame him, because her take-down had been pretty spectacular, she felt she had to at least pretend to be offended.

She spun on him and shoved him, trying not to laugh.

"You dropped me, you bastard!" she howled – and the laughing got louder; a glance told her it was Sam Hanna, hunched over on a sandbar and busting a gut over Jenny's aquatic tackle.

Gibbs held up his hands, his mouth tense – but not tense as if he were angry, tense as if he couldn't quite control a smile, so he had to just grit his teeth. Jenny put her hands on her hips and rounded on him.

"We were winning!"

"The wave – "

"Bullshit, the wave!" Jenny yelped. "You bucked me off, you pirouetted like Baryshnikov – "

"Who the fuck – "

"Don't change the subject!"

Gibbs looked sheepish, and stepped back, splashing into the ocean. She shoved him again, smiling a little, and then quickly schooling her features.

"Six game winning streak, down the drain – "

"That's two margaritas you owe me, Jenny," called Michelle Hanna, standing triumphantly next to her husband.

Jenny stomped in some ocean water and pointed at Gibbs.

"He threw me off, I had you – " she shouted back good-naturedly.

"Yeah, until that wave kicked your ass!"

Jenny raised her eyes to the sky and gave a faux scream of rage, and then she dove at Gibbs, trying to take him down. He burst out laughing, stumbling back and catching her easily, and he avoided the pinches she gave him, holding up his hands defensively.

"Jen – Jenny, damn," he said loudly. He held her back. "I stepped on a crab!" he confessed finally.

She opened her mouth in mock outrage – that definitely explained the sudden and erratic jerking motion he'd done, which threw her off – and resulted in her standing up with a mouthful of saltwater and failing to see the giant wave coming at her.

_"Ten_ years in the _Marines_ and you can't resist the mere pinch of a crab – "

"You tell 'im, Jenny," Hanna snickered. "Good man should tell his wife when he's got crabs."

Gibbs flipped Hanna the bird and Jenny slapped his hand down, shaking her head. She hung her head a little, acknowledging defeat, and Gibbs ruffled her hair, shaking out more seawater.

Hanna and Michelle made their way closer, Michelle reaching up to touch the colourful green wrap she was wearing around her hair.

"Champion," she drawled, "and without even a misplaced curl."

Jenny rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Before she could answer, a football came soaring towards them, which Gibbs reached out and caught deftly before it could strike either of the women.

"Callan, you hit my wife's nose, you're payin' for the replacement!" roared Hanna, glaring up the beach.

"Just tryin' to humble you, Sam!" Callan called back. He jogged over, followed by another of their little clique, Dwayne Pride.

"You birds want to play a game of touch?" Pride asked, snatching the football and bouncing it in his palm. He pointed at Hannah. "When Saydie's done tannin', we're playin' y'all," he said.

"Take 'im down hard, Pride," Jenny said – she was still smarting a little over losing her throne as the all-time queen of ocean chicken.

"I don't want to play," Michelle said good-naturedly. "Layin' in some sun sounds pretty damn good, after all this winning."

Jenny laughed, but bowed out as well. She shoved Gibbs towards his friends and waved him off.

"Don't chuck that football near us, unless all of you want to be on couches for the next month."

"Speak for your own husband, Jenny," snorted Hanna loudly.

Michelle pointed a finger at him.

"We'll all band together, you watch," she promised. She turned pointedly and sashayed off, and Jenny grinned, wiggling her eyebrows aggressively.

"Wives' code of honor," she sang, and then glanced at Callan, "and your girlfriend's in it, too," she added wryly, "since you're practically mar – "

"Stop putting ideas in her head," Callan groaned, giving Jenny a look.

Jenny smirked, her tongue between her teeth, and shrugged.

"She'll wear you down," she promised slyly, and shot her own husband a knowing look. "Ask Gibbs about that sort of thing."

Gibbs shrugged.

"Wouldn't know," he said, deadpan. "Jen begged me to marry her – cried, kicked her feet," he whistled, as if sympathetic. "I sucked it up, got on with it."

Jenny rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling a little as she turned to follow Michelle up to the sandier part of the beach – Michelle had already settled down into a comfortable beach chair, and pulled out a compact to check that her hair was still protected.

Callan's girlfriend, Erica Jane – the perfect embodiment of a west coast blonde bombshell - was tapping away furiously on a tablet, looking a little concerned – and Pride's wife, Saydie, had abandoned her beach towel under an umbrella and was talking to someone just a few feet away.

"E.J., try not to look so pissed off, we're at the beach," Jenny joked, reaching for a beer in the metal bucket under the umbrella shade.

She threw a Bud Light back into the ice with a look of disgust and dug around for a Sam Adams instead, popping the top of swiftly on the side of the cooler.

"This fucking moron at work," E.J. muttered, tossing her long blonde hair down her back. "I tell them exactly how to operate," she trailed off before she could finish, muttering, and Jenny shared a look with Michelle – E.J. was one of those people who couldn't sit still, and couldn't at all stand being out of control; even on her days off, she was somehow electronically connected to the graphic design company she worked for.

Jenny sat down on a beach towel and picked up a Panama hat, placing it over her hair. She glanced over herself cursorily – she probably needed more sunscreen, but she let it be for a moment. There was a shout as one of the guys tackled another, swearing, and Jenny watched, using her palm to shade her eyes, before leaning back on her elbows and looking around.

"Who's Saydie talking to?" she asked, nodding her head.

Michelle turned, looked interested, and shrugged. Erica Jane, however, finishing up her e-mail – or chat, whatever she was doing – tossed her tablet into her bag with a show of annoyance and then started pulling her hair up as she answered –

"She's someone Say went to high school with."

"Ah," Michelle said.

"Here?" asked Jenny.

"Mm-hmm," murmured E.J., tying up her hair securely. "Yeah, Saydie's from here, remember?"

Jenny nodded – she had known that; Pride had met Saydie during his first station at Pendleton, and he'd married her just before Gibbs and Jenny had arrived, about a year and a half ago.

"I think she ran into her at the hot dog stand?" E.J. said, in that same rapid-fire way of hers. "Or maybe they were texting, I don't know - she introduced us, before my idiotic underlings demanded my attention."

Michelle laughed at Erica Jane.

"The way you talk, no one you work for is competent."

E.J. gave her a very serious look and simply said: "They're not."

Jenny pulled sunglasses from her bag and slipped them on, reaching for her e-reader. She swiped her fingers around a moment, pulling up the book she was reading, and then she checked her phone lazily – there was nothing there, except –

"Gibbs is going to murder Saydie," Jenny snorted, noticing that Saydie had taken a picture of them earlier, and posted it on Twitter.

"He'll never see it," E.J. said – she'd seen Saydie post it.

Jenny smirked – that was true enough. Gibbs still had no real interest in any sort of social media - or the Internet, for that matter.

"Hey, guys," Saydie said, ducking around an umbrella and holding out her hand. "This is Stephanie," she introduced. "You already met E.J. – this is Michelle, and Jenny – Stephanie was on my volleyball team in high school!"

Michelle waved, and Jenny leaned forward, pushing her sunglasses up and shaking the other girl's hand. She was tall – not too tall, though – and she had green eyes and red hair that differed from Jenny's in length and darkness – hers was more ginger.

"Want a beer?" Jenny offered immediately - they had plenty.

Stephanie glanced at Saydie a little hesitantly, and Saydie nodded hospitably.

"Yeah, hang out for a minute!" she said earnestly.

Saydie knelt down, offering Stephanie a chair, and Stephanie took it, and Jenny shifted again, dragging the cooler a little closer in the sand.

"There's – Bud Light, Sam Adams – uh, there's like one Blue Moon, Stella Artois – and Corona," Jenny listed.

"Corona," Stephanie said politely.

"Good choice, we have about a ton of those," Jenny said, opening one for her and handing it over. "They're my husband's favorite."

"Lucky for me," Stephanie said, thanking her with a toast. "I'm not a beer person, really, but I managed to develop a taste for Corona," she added.

Jenny nodded, leaning back lazily again.

Stephanie nodded at Jenny's bathing suit.

"That's a really flattering one piece – I have never seen someone make a one piece look that nice," she complimented.

"Thank you! I like you," Jenny said smartly, giving Saydie a thumb up. She then winked at Stephanie. "Mind repeating that to my husband? He threw a tantrum when he noticed I wasn't in a bikini. I tried to remind him he sees me naked all the time, but," she trailed off, shrugging wryly.

Stephanie laughed.

"So, you went to high school with Saydie?" Michelle asked. "What kind of wild stories do you have on her?"

"Oh, she was a good girl," Stephanie said quickly.

"Told you," Saydie gloated, looking prim.

"So were you the wild one?" Jenny asked Stephanie wryly.

"No," Stephanie said slowly, and shared a glance with Saydie, "but our friend Victoria – "

"God!" exclaimed Michelle, excited. "We've heard about Victoria – egged a cop car with him _sitting_ in it, Victoria?"

Stephanie nodded, and Saydie burst out in nostalgic laughter.

"I still don't know how we got out of that one," she murmured. "Of course, Steph and I were just there for the ride."

"And Saydie had the good sense to stop hanging around Tori," Stephanie said, arching a brow. "Unlike me."

"Well, you've come around!" Saydie said brightly, with just a hint of a past that seemed a little tense.

Stephanie smiled warmly, and Jenny pushed her hair back, eyeing the other girl.

"It must have been perfect growing up here," she said honestly. "The sun, the not so cold winter," Jenny listed.

"Jenny hates winter," E.J. snorted. "She brings it up whenever she gets a chance."

"Actually," Stephanie said, "I always wanted it to snow."

"Figures," Jenny laughed.

"What do you do, Stephanie?" Michelle asked conversationally. "If you don't mind," she added, shrugging.

"I'm at San Diego State University," Stephanie answered easily. "I didn't go to college right out of high school – didn't know what I wanted to do."

"That's so smart," Jenny said seriously. "There's literally no point in putting down the money if you don't know what you want to get out of it."

"I wish my parents got that," Stephanie laughed lightly. "But yeah, I got it figured out."

"What are you studying?" E.J. asked, blinking in the sunlight.

"It's like – a mix of information technology and public health – "

"I have a cousin who works at the CDC," E.J. interrupted immediately – she was always pulling connections out of thin air. "And they have these people, they're like virus cops – " she started to go on, and Stephanie stared at her, fascinated.

She didn't stop until Hanna came pounding up, plunging into the cooler for a beer.

"Where's all my – damn, Jenny," he griped, seeing the last Sam Adams in her hand. "I thought the Stella was for you."

She just shook her head and smiled sweetly. Hanna scowled and chose one of the Stellas instead, twisting off the cap with his bare palm and downing half of it. He turned a mild glare on Saydie.

"Tell your man to stop peggin' the football at my crotch," he growled bluntly, "my wife wants kids, you know."

Michelle laughed.

"Relax, Sam, if he hits you it might swell a few sizes."

Jenny burst out laughing, and Hanna gave his wife an outraged look, kicking sand at her playfully as he turned and pretended to stalk off. Michelle leaned forward and wrinkled her nose.

"It's not really small, but you know, he likes to maintain the whole 'black men are behemoths' thing, and I like to be biologically realistic."

"Who wants a mega dick anyway?" Erica Jane asked flippantly.

"Oooh, sounds like someone's getting the short end of the stick from Callan," teased Saydie.

"G is fine, it's just one time, I dated this guy who was hung, and I mean – well, he's actually married on one of Callan's cousins, now – "

"Hey," Jenny interrupted, blinking pointedly, "maybe our new friend Stephanie doesn't want to hear about our husbands' dicks."

Saydie burst into giggles.

"My bad, Steph," she said.

"You're _all_ married?" Stephanie asked a little dryly, pointing around.

Michelle, Saydie, and Jenny nodded – Erica Jane gave a dramatic sigh, and held up her hand.

"Not yet," she lamented, "but not for lack of trying."

Stephanie grinned at her bare finger.

"I'll toast to that," she said, and held her bottle up to E.J.

The blonde smiled wryly, and pressed her fist to her chest with appreciation. Stephanie looked over at the group Hanna had just rejoined, and squinted.

"So whose is whose?" she asked.

"Mine's the black one," Michelle said bluntly. Then she leaned forward, and grinned. "Sam, he's the one who whines about shit all the time."

"Ah."

"I thought you'd met Dwayne?" Saydie asked.

"I missed the wedding," Stephanie said, shaking her head apologetically. "And he wasn't with you when we met up in San Francisco."

"Oh, well Dwayne is the one with the stupid haircut."

"Saydie, they're Marines, they all have that stupid haircut."

"Dwayne has the dumbest one, though."

Stephanie laughed.

"I definitely see which one you mean."

"Well, point," interjected Jenny, "because I like mine's hair, and if you point at him, I'll shank you with this bottle."

"Jenny, Jesus, she doesn't know you like we do," E.J. laughed, bemused.

Stephanie pointed correctly at Dwayne Pride, though, and E.J. thrust out her hand.

"The one who thinks Speedos are still vogue is my boyfriend," she muttered. "He's going to wake up engaged on Halloween, though - you know, trick or treat – I haven't told him yet," she said slyly.

Stephanie laughed at her.

"His name's G."

"What's the G stand for?"

Everyone but Erica Jane shared a look, and E.J. looked at Stephanie mysteriously.

"I'm the only one who knows."

Stephanie arched her brows, and Jenny pointed.

"And that one is mine – the one who just tackled Callan from behind like a redneck – JETHRO, FOUL PLAY!" she screamed, holding her hand up as if annoyed.

He was standing up, shaking off Callan smugly.

"Who made you referee?" he retorted, his voice muffled as Callan dragged him back in the sand and punched him in the shoulder.

Stephanie tilted her head, looking a little taken aback.

"Just ignore them," Michelle said. "Their drill sergeants hit them in the head too much."

Stephanie turned to Jenny.

"Jethro?" she asked, her brow going up further.

"I'd insult his dad for naming him that, but I like his dad," Jenny confided, rolling her eyes – she was used to people repeating Gibbs' name as if she'd just spoken in Japanese; she had done it herself when she first met him.

Stephanie looked like she was going to say something else, but the man himself interrupted, brushing sand off his shoulders as he jogged up.

"Throw me a Corona," he said.

"Throw me a Corona _what_?" Jenny teased loftily.

"Throw me a Corona, _your highness_," he retorted mockingly, stalwartly refusing to say please.

Jenny waved her hand at him, and then leaned over – the dog tags at her neck made a loud noise against the cooler, and she handed a beer up to Gibbs. He opened it, drank about half, and then crouched down for a moment.

"Gibbs always comes and hangs out with us more than the others because he's obsessed with his wife," Michelle said smartly.

"Well, I am very good in the sack," Jenny said royally, leaning back and turning to Stephanie.

"Stephanie, this is – " she began, but she paused, because Stephanie was already looking straight at Gibbs, and Jenny didn't have to look to know that Gibbs was staring right back at her.

"Hey, Stevie," he said gruffly, taking Jenny – and Saydie, too, it seemed – off guard.

Stephanie pursed her lips, and then sat up straighter.

"No one's called me Stevie in years," she said neutrally. She shrugged her shoulders, and inclined her head. "Hi, Jethro."

Jenny shot a somewhat amused, curious look between them, and then before she could do anything else, Erica Jane licked her lips and shattered the ice.

"There's that awkwardness in the air that happens when two people who used to fuck run into each other," she said blithely.

Michelle reached out and yanked E.J.'s ponytail.

"Ouch," Erica Jane uttered, unconcerned. She twitched away, and then laid onto her back, pulling a leg up, and settling into the sunlight. "I don't like profound staring," she sighed.

Jenny laughed at that, pushing the brim of her hat up a little.

"Stephanie," she said mildly, and with suddenly recognition – obviously, there were a million Stephanies in the world, and it would never have occurred to her that any Stephanie she met was Gibbs' Stephanie, but considering they were _at_ Pendleton – this made sense.

She remembered Gibbs mentioning a Stephanie, a Pendleton Stephanie – she was the only serious, or semi-serious, relationship he'd had before Jenny herself – and now that she thought about it, Jenny didn't actually know how serious it had been.

Although, judging by how Stephanie looked at him –

"I know where you got your taste for Corona," Jenny said good-naturedly, noting what Stephanie had said earlier. "How do you feel about bourbon?"

Gibbs had turned is head and was glaring at Jenny, but she ignored him. Stephanie, caught off guard at Jenny's calm reaction, blinked, and then smiled a little.

"The first legal drink I had was bourbon," she revealed, "and," she laughed, "that was the last time I had it."

"It takes longer to acquire bourbon than Corona," Jenny said.

Saydie swallowed, and after she said it, Jenny realized it might have sounded jealous or combative – or both - and she hadn't meant it that way.

Gibbs looked away from Jenny, and took another swig of his beer, apparently unsure of what to do – Jenny didn't blame him; he was being watched by all of his friends' significant others and his wife, and he'd never run into an old girlfriend with Jenny present – though Jenny had briefly met Maggie, his high school sweetheart, when she was in Stillwater one weekend.

"You been good?" Gibbs asked.

Stephanie nodded.

"I got my act together and went to college," she said.

There seemed to be an air of history there, and Jenny listened patiently. Gibbs didn't say anything for a minute, and then he nodded, and cleared his throat.

"How's Shelley?" he asked lamely.

Saydie looked between them.

"Your – sister, Shelley?" she asked.

Stephanie nodded, and then shrugged.

"She had a baby."

"Another one?" Gibbs asked.

"She's a baby factory," Stephanie said, rolling her eyes.

"This is weird," Saydie said honestly, pushing her hair back. "How did I," she pointed between Stephanie and Gibbs. She just looked confused, and then she shot a sheepish look at Jenny. Jenny just shrugged; she wasn't particularly bothered.

She looked over at Gibbs, and he took another uncomfortable drink of beer, and then grunted in a non-committal way, nodding again. One of the guys yelled at him, impatient, and he stood up. Jenny glanced up at him, shielding her eyes from the sun.

He held up his beer in a kind of solemn toast.

"Good to see you, Stev—Stephanie," he corrected swiftly.

He turned and headed off – a little slower than he had arrived, and Jenny looked away from him.

E.J. was unconcerned, and both Michelle and Saydie were looking between the two redheads with interest, and maybe apprehension – and that exasperated Jenny; she wasn't the type to get catty over a man; Gibbs had married her, and that was really all that mattered.

She leaned towards Stephanie, ignoring Michelle and Saydie.

"I'm not the jealous type," she whispered pointedly.

Stephanie looked at her a little warily, and then gave her a lopsided, half-hearted smile.

"Small world," she remarked.

Jenny nodded fervently.

"You're tellin' me," she drawled, "Billions of people on this earth, and we're both _fortunate_ enough to find the one named _Leroy Jethro_?" she laughed. "It's a bond of the hillbilly name."

"You were more fortunate than me," Stephanie pointed out a little vaguely, and Jenny bit the inside of her lip – ah, it definitely seemed there was more than just a mild seriousness to the history between Gibbs and this ex of his.

Jenny shrugged a little.

"I don't know," she said lightly. "He leaves teabags on random surfaces when he's done with them." She paused, and then snorted. "I have never been more pleased with myself for putting a conversation about dicks to a halt," she added – she couldn't imagine how mortifying it would be to have brought up her sex life and then find out that – well, theoretically, Stephanie could exactly relate.

Stephanie looked a little scandalized, and then glanced over at the men, a frank look in her eyes. Unable to help herself, she held up her beer to Jenny dramatically, and Jenny laughed, returning the gesture.

"Men have a name for this thing," she pointed out. "What are we—some kind of sisters?"

Stephanie bit her lip, crinkling her nose thoughtfully.

"Think of me as the one who prepped him for you," she said, drinking to Jenny. "The Jethro I knew wasn't the marrying type."

Jenny hesitated, but took her drink – and then E.J. sat up and reached for her tablet as it started making an insistent noise, and Saydie quickly steered the conversation to a more neutral subject. Jenny willingly obliged the new conversation – and took some perverse amusement in the fact that Gibbs kept shooting pained, wary looks over at them – she'd tease him later, tell him they were comparing sex stories – but she couldn't quite shake what Stephanie had said, about Gibbs not being the marrying type –

— because in Jenny's years of experience since he'd first proposed when she was eighteen, Leroy Jethro Gibbs had always been quite the stubborn, persistent marrying type.

* * *

><p>Jenny was making sure the tailgate of the truck was locked up when Saydie crept up behind her and leaned close, holding her shoulders.<p>

"I'm so sorry, Jenny," she murmured, her cheeks flushed. " I had no idea – "

Jenny turned, wiping off her palms on her denim shorts, giving Saydie a careless look.

"Say, good God, don't worry," she said honestly, wrinkling her brow. "She's one of his old girlfriends – it's not like you exposed me to smallpox!"

Saydie laughed, obviously relieved, and crossed her arms, shrugging.

"Well, you never know – and _obviously_ Steph was uncomfortable. I thought she was being catty," she said nervously.

Jenny shrugged a little.

"Well, maybe she loved him," she said flippantly. She tipped her hat and then flipped her hair dramatically. "Gibbs obviously has a type."

"I just can't believe I didn't know – I mean I knew Stephanie dated a Marine, but we lost touch for so long," Saydie murmured.

Jenny shrugged again – it really wasn't something that was bothering her, even though she did plan on asking Jethro about it, and he'd probably take it the wrong way and think she was jealous.

"Is she your age?" Jenny asked Saydie thoughtfully – Saydie was four years older than Jenny, closer in age to Dwayne than Jenny was to Gibbs.

"Yeah," Saydie answered.

She stepped back and glanced over at her jeep – Pride was about done loading it up.

"You and Gibbs coming bar hopping with us?"

"Nah," Jenny answered easily.

Saydie nodded, and waited until Gibbs had come over to say her goodbyes. The others had already headed out, and Saydie gave Gibbs a quick hug before hopping off to join her husband. Jenny smiled radiantly at Gibbs and then went around to the passenger side and climbed in the truck, sliding to the middle to sit next to him.

"Why don't you want to go to the bars?" Gibbs asked suspiciously.

"Because," Jenny gloated. "We're going to see a movie."

Gibbs glanced at her as he started the car.

"We are?"

"Yeah."

"One of them indie films?" he asked warily, barely hiding a grimace.

"No, I bought tickets to _Guardians of the Galaxy_."

Gibbs paused – he was waiting to pull out of beach parking, and he looked over at her neutrally.

"Didn't know you wanted to see that," he said gruffly.

"I didn't," she said – well, she didn't not want to see it, she just hadn't been that interested. "You do."

He blinked at her.

"I remember – you have the old comics in your bedroom, in Stillwater," she said smugly, proud of herself. "You just didn't want to tell me you wanted to see it because there's a fuckin' animated raccoon in it."

Gibbs was quiet for a moment, navigating down the crowded roads, and then very seriously, he said –

"Jen, Rocket is not _just_ a raccoon – "

"I was right!" exclaimed Jenny gleefully. She gave him another smug look, and bounced in her seat a little. "I am the best wife in the _galaxy_," she quipped, lifting her chin regally.

Gibbs reached over and ran his hand over her thigh, grinning – he couldn't really argue with that, and he didn't plan on it.

His smile stayed on his face for the drive home – he was glad she'd been that intuitive about them movie, but he was also glad Stephanie hadn't been brought up – he'd thought she'd turned down a night of drinking because she was unsettled. He didn't particularly want to talk about Stephanie –

"Your ex-girlfriend liked my bathing suit," Jenny said suddenly, turning a wry look on him and elbowing him.

Gibbs was pulling into their drive back on base – the beach they went to wasn't at all far from their housing.

Gibbs glared straight ahead at the windshield – well, he'd been kidding himself thinking there wouldn't be at least one comment. He decided he'd focus on one part of what she'd said, instead of the other.

"Didn't say I didn't _like_ your bathing suit," he drawled pointedly. "Just asked why there was so much of it."

He parked the car, and she snorted, shaking her head as she hopped out of the truck.

"You don't think the tan lines on this one will be much more fun to trace with your tongue?" she asked sweetly, waiting near the front of the truck for him, her beach bag looped over her wrist.

He gave her a sly look and shrugged, taking a strand of her hair and tugging it gently before walking past and up to the house.

"More skin, the better," he grunted stubbornly.

She caught up to him and followed him inside, kicking off flip-flops in the hall, hanging up her hat, and immediately dropping her bag onto the counter and reaching around for a comb, attacking her hair.

"What time's the movie?" he asked, opening the refrigerator and eyeing the contents – he was set on leftovers for supper, since Jen didn't seem to want to go out, and there's no way either of them would want to cook after a day at the beach.

"Little after nine."

"Late," he muttered.

"Jethro, you're older than me, but you're not geriatric," she teased, turning. She leaned against the counter and yanked at some knots at the end of her tangled, salty red hair, watching him crouch and dig around. "There's that Chicken Parmesan in the drawer," she said helpfully.

He opened the drawer obediently, and took it out, shutting the fridge. He held it up silently, asking if she wanted any, and she shook her head; he took that to mean she was full from snacks and beer, and she'd want to save room for snacks at the movie.

They were coming off the beach late today, anyway.

"Jethro," Jenny said, watching him with mild amusement as she combed her hair. "We're going to talk about Stephanie."

Gibbs let out a ridiculous, overdramatic groan and shoved his face against the microwave door he was holding open, perhaps in an attempt to make it swallow him. He stood there a moment, and then he went about opening the container the leftovers were in, and he glanced at Jenny.

"Is this gonna be a fight?" he asked, exasperated. "I can't help that she lives here, Jen – "

But his wife was laughing at him – not cruelly, but with genuine mirth. She paused in combing her knots and shook her head, holding up a hand soothingly.

"When have I ever been mad at you for having a life before me?" she asked simply, still smiling at him. "Why would I be jealous? You married me. You spent a hell of a lot of time waiting around for me," she added, and then gave him a serious look. "I wouldn't do you the disservice of thinking for a second you aren't loyal to me above everyone else."

He glanced at her again, placing the container in the microwave.

"Then what're we talkin' about?"

Jenny shrugged, watching him punch in some arbitrary numbers for heating up the food – and she didn't get on to him about putting it on high, or in for too long, because he'd just ignore her and burn his tongue and then scowl at her for being right.

"I'm interested," she said honestly. "I've never met an _ex_ before."

"Not interestin' to me," Gibbs muttered, turning towards her. He leaned against the counter, just in font of the microwave, and still looked a little wary. "It was a long time ago," he said flippantly.

Jenny nodded.

"But she said she was the only one who was ever even marginally serious."

"How'd you know that?" Gibbs asked, and then he rolled his eyes at himself for being drawn in.

Jenny smirked.

"You _told_ me."

Gibbs arched a brow – he must have; he didn't think anyone else would have gone into details of his past personal life. He shrugged a little, unsure if he wanted to talk about Stephanie, and he kept staring at his wife, waiting for her to ask something that he could tell her was over the line, so they could move on.

"How long were you with her?" Jenny asked.

Gibbs studied her a moment, making sure she really didn't have any animosity or malice in the lines of her face; she seemed to be honest when she said she had no hard feelings – she just wanted to know. That made sense, though; Jenny always wanted to _know,_ and she knew just how to pry without being overbearing or manipulative.

"'Bout two years," he answered finally.

Jenny arched her brows at him then, looking a little less carefree.

"Jethro, that's more serious than you let on."

"Wasn't serious the whole time," he said bluntly, flexing one of his hands. "Quit seein' her when I got transferred to Okinawa."

Jenny licked her lips, and then pointed.

"So, did you quit seeing her because you were transferred, or because it was over?" she asked.

He stared at her.

"What?"

"There's a difference," Jenny said simply.

The microwave went off, and before Gibbs could turn to check it, Jenny went over to make sure the heated up food was hot all the way through – it wasn't, so she worked the microwave correctly this time, and restarted it.

"She's the one who wanted you to leave the Marines," Jenny recalled.

Gibbs nodded. Stephanie hadn't wanted long distance at all; she had never been vague about her opinions there, and she'd tried to give him a half-cocked ultimatum the year he'd re-contracted: leave the Marines and keep her, or lose her and go where they sent him next. He lost her, and went to Okinawa – and then to Quantico, and then to Jenny.

"Did she break up with you?" Jenny asked.

"Jen," Gibbs said, turning his head towards her and giving her a warning look. "It's not your business."

"She seemed to think it was," Jenny remarked a little coolly. "She - I was being hospitable, you know – well, you're standing there thinking I'm pretending I don't care, but honestly Jethro, I don't feel threatened by anyone," Jenny told him securely, "but she – just off the cuff comments, and it's not fair for me to listen to that without letting you tell your side."

"What, she claim I cheated on her or somethin'?" Gibbs asked harshly, his stomach clenching angrily – Stephanie had been in an abusive relationship before him, she'd always been a little accusatory, but he'd never –

"No," Jenny said firmly. She scoffed. "You're not a cheater," she added thoughtfully, and then opened the microwave to take his food out. She handed it to him, and met his eyes. "She said she _prepped_ you for me."

Gibbs paused, looking at her cautiously.

"Prepped?" he quoted.

Jenny grinned.

"Yes, like she's the chef and you're the juicy steak," she quipped.

Gibbs didn't really smile.

"What the hell's that mean, _prepped_?"

Jenny chewed her lip a little.

"Well," she started neutrally, "she said the Gibbs she knew wasn't the marrying type." Jenny retreated towards her counter, picking up her comb and reaching for her hair. "It sounded like she's under the impression if it weren't for her, you wouldn't have settled down with me."

For a split second, Gibbs looked mutinous, and Jenny parted her lips, surprised that she'd made him so angry. She didn't exactly know why that seemed to have upset him so much, but the look on his face faded, and he just shook his head tensely, and set his jaw, starting forward and heading for the dining room table. He set his food down, and then went towards the fridge – and once he'd retrieved a beer, he turned around, shut the door, and looked her square in the face.

"She's full of it, Jen," he said, his jaw still a little tight. "I didn't want to marry _her_," he pointed out. "Didn't have a damn thing to do with bein' the type."

Jenny nodded, her eyes following him as he twisted off the cap with his palm, throwing it into the sink.

"Okay, Jethro," she murmured. "I'm not accusing you of anything."

"I did right by that girl," he said, cutting her off a little, there at the end. He paused, and then seemed to make a silent resolution, and he shrugged carelessly. "I saw Stephanie a long time, yeah," he admitted. "Liked her, gave a damn what happened to her," he said. He curled his hand into a fist, and hit it against his other hand. "She just wasn't the one."

Jenny nodded; she understood that fine – logically, that is; personally she couldn't relate; she'd never seen anyone before she'd started seeing Gibbs, and Gibbs had been her one.

"I wasn't goin' to leave the Marines to marry her," Gibbs said, with an air of finality. "She wanted to get married – hell, I'd barely turned twenty-one, and half the reason she wanted it was to keep her away from the crap I tried to get her out of – bad, abusive high school guy, bad friends," he growled distastefully. "I wasn't goin' to be a crutch, either. She had to do that herself."

Jenny looked at him intently, her hands frozen near her hair.

"You say a lot of profound things, Jethro," she remarked quietly, "when I get you to talk."

"Yeah, well," he muttered, remembering his food, and leaving the kitchen. "I got some brains, somewhere. Got enough to know I couldn't save anyone," he added, sitting down heavily. "Learned that from Shannon."

Jenny laid her comb down, She leaned against the counter a moment, staring at the spot where he'd been standing, and then she grinned to herself. She followed him, and took a sat catty-corner to him at the table, leaning on her elbow, eyeing him a moment.

Then, she spoke a little smugly.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs," she murmured, "are you telling me that at one point in your life, someone wanted to marry you, and _you_ weren't ready yet?"

A little crinkle – almost like a wince – appeared above the bridge of Gibbs' nose, and he concentrated very hard on his eating, definitely making a point not to look over at his wife. He understood exactly the point of her statement, and he wasn't quite stupid enough to spring an obvious trap.

Jenny nudged is foot with hers affectionately under the table, and pushed her hair back, laughing quietly.

"I'll be damned," she gloated.

He put down his fork and turned to her, mustering a righteous glare.

"Not the same," he said.

She laughed loudly.

"Yeah, explain that one – "

"I told you," he interrupted. "I didn't want to marry her. I _wanted_ to marry you."

He said it as if he was finished with the conversation, but it interested Jenny to hear it, and she watched him go back to eating for a moment before deciding to ask something that he might jump down her throat for.

"Jethro," she said levelly. "If Stephanie had been willing to do long distance, how do you know it wouldn't have been her?" She tilted her head. "You said wait, she ended it. I said wait, you waited."

She felt it was a valid question – what if the difference between Jenny sitting here with Gibbs, or Stephanie sitting here with a ring and a new last name, was simply that one relationship had ended instead of seeing what happened later – what if Stephanie was the one who got away.

Gibbs seemed to chew for magnificently prolonged amount of time, and then he swallowed, and looked over at Jenny – he looked at her long, tangled mess of red hair, he green eyes, her sun-freckled skin – and he didn't see anyone else, not even a flicker, of another woman he'd rather be sitting there, harassing him while he was trying to eat his damn leftovers.

"You answered your own question," he grunted. Stephanie didn't want to wait, Jen," he said in a low voice. "Half that's because neither one of us felt the way you're s'pose to; she knew it wouldn't last out Okinawa." Gibbs shrugged. "She didn't want to wait out the deployments, either," he pointed out. "I waited for you, but you did your share," he said gruffly. "You still do it."

Jenny blinked, tilting her head intently, listening to him. He grit his teeth a moment, and then looked at her again, his shoulders hunched a little as he leaned on the table.

"If you're going to get more emotional, let me get the video camera," she joked softly, and he shot her a glare – when she composed herself swiftly, he flipped his palm upright, and nudged at his wedding ring with his thumb.

Stephanie had always had a hopelessly insecure streak, and he'd given up trying to compliment it out of her. If she made herself feel better about losing him – and he knew part of it was probably nostalgia for what a good time they'd had, not real memory of how they hadn't ever really completely clicked – but thinking she'd fixed him up for the next girl, that was her prerogative.

"I'm going back to something else you said, Jethro," Jenny said honestly. "You said – you were barely twenty-one," she quoted. "So, Stephanie was never the one. But the fact that you even brought up age – you must have had an inkling of what I meant, when I said I wasn't ready."

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes for a moment. He still nudged at his wedding ring.

"Jen," he said flatly, "all I knew was, I wanted to marry you. That's about all I thought about."

Jenny bit her lip, and grinned.

"But that makes sense," she said. "That's why you – the first time you proposed, you ran off to Stillwater, acted like it was over – because your relationship with Stephanie didn't survive that conversation."

"Why are you bringin' this up?" Gibbs asked suddenly, turning exasperated eyes on her. He held up his left hand, the ring clearly visible. "I got the answer I wanted, we got married – "

"Because we always fought about that, it was one of our biggest issues!" Jenny said, but she was laughing a little, as if in disbelief, "and if I'd known about – I don't know, Stephanie, maybe we'd avoided some, related better about it – "

Gibbs gave her a look like he was done talking, like it didn't matter, and she stopped, and shrugged a little – he was probably right.

"We didn't talk about past relationships because I hadn't had any," she pointed out astutely, "and you didn't want to make me nervous."

He leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms.

"And they're my relationships, Jen," he said bluntly. He shrugged. "You know what I thought, when I saw Stevie?" he asked abruptly.

Jenny tilted her head curiously, and shook it slightly. Gibbs turned his head. He looked guilty, for a brief moment, and then he said truthfully –

"I thought, _it's a damn good thing I dodged that bullet_."

He waited for his wife's reaction, and Jenny did look a little bemused by his revelation, but she said nothing, and Gibbs lifted his shoulders with pointed finality.

"You love someone, you want to marry them, you work, and you wait, even if it pisses you off," he said firmly, "and Stevie and I, neither of us tried. With you?" Gibbs compressed his lips, making a face as if to imply something was a piece of cake. "Didn't matter how mad I got, I wasn't quittin'."

Jenny just stared at him for a long time – until he started to glare at her, and then cleared his throat.

"That enough talk for you, Mrs. Gibbs?" he asked loudly, arching a brow.

She jumped a little, laughed hoarsely, and then covered her mouth. She got up, leaned down over him, and kissed him on the mouth – long and slow, possessive and fierce. His hand brushed against her hip, thumb pressing into the bone as if it was made to fit there.

He pulled her onto his lap, and she nudged his cheek with her nose.

"Yeah, I think that warrants a bikini the next time we have a beach Saturday," she murmured.

He grinned at her, relieved – he thought it was weird, the conversation they'd just had; she really hadn't been nagging him, she hadn't been jealous – he felt almost psychoanalyzed, and a little sheepish – but still, he wanted her to know – he'd been so aggressive about marrying her because for so long, he'd been terrified she'd decide he wasn't enough. It was only when – after one particularly bad fight –he'd realized that tying her down in a marriage she wasn't ready for wouldn't assuage that fear at all that he'd backed off, and then it all fell into place.

He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment, and slipped his hand into the back pocket of her denim shorts. She tilted her head to the side, and bit her lip.

"I want to shower before the movie," she murmured suggestively.

He had no trouble interpreting the invitation. He smacked her lightly on the hip and she slid off his lap, pausing to turn back for a moment, her green eyes sparkling.

"When you dated Stephanie – did you know a Victoria?" she asked, a little wickedly – Saydie had implied that she'd lost touch with her friend because Stephanie had chosen the wrong group of friends.

Gibbs stiffened a little, and gave a small, grimacing nod.

"Christ, Jen," he swore, "that _girl_ was a nutcase – "

Jenny didn't ask him to elaborate, though, because she'd much rather the only sordid stories in her shower tell only a tale of herself and Gibbs.

* * *

><p><em>August 2014<em>

* * *

><p><em>-alexandra<em>  
><em>story #238<em>


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